Soul Brothers: The Marauder Chronicles: Year 1
by EpitomeOfDreams
Summary: On September 1st, 1971, four remarkably unique boys entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and formed the most extraordinary bond of friendship that made them soul brothers.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: It is to my greatest misfortune that I do not own the Harry Potter characters or universe. They belong to this talented lady that goes by the name J.K. Rowling, and she does not wish to share ownership. If she was to give me Sirius Orion Black, I would be the happiest girl in the world.**

**A/N**** - **Hello there! Well, for starters, let me make this clear to you that this will most certainly be a series. As you can see by the title, this is only Year 1; there will be six more installments. In other words, it will go through the beginning of the Marauders' first year up to their graduation.

I've read a lot of Marauder tales, but I've only ever enjoyed a few of them. Some were ridiculous, some made no sense, and most never fully captured the solid fact that the Marauders were like brothers, despite blood, heritage, or being. I've been trying to look for the right Marauder story for about three years, and I still haven't found it. So I've come to the decision that it is my duty to write it until it is found. I really, really, really love the Marauders, and it is my hope that I should write them according to their characters justifiably so. I want this story to be eye-catching, so please read it!

I go by the facts of J.K. Rowling. This means that dates will be exact, ages will be exact, and names will be exact. If these things are unknown, then I will provide. Whatever people I make up will quite possibly never be major characters; only minor. I know this is fiction and that I can make up anything I want, but, well...I'm just messed-up in the head like that! Of course whatever else you see here is mine; basically the whole plot.

I just want to make a little something clear, though. Peter Pettigrew was part of the Marauders, but...listen...I hate him. I absolutely, positively hate his fucking guts! So...he's not going to be fully present until their third year at least. Like, J.K. Rowling never stated when Peter was issued as a Marauder; we only know that he was already part of them during their fifth year. So, theoretically, I'm going to be putting him far off to the side until I absolutely need to proclaim his existence.

To wrap it all up, feel free to leave ideas and suggestions in a review. Tell me how you think this is going and tell me how you think I can make it better. I'd love to see what you guys have to say, and I'll take it to heart.

I sincerely hope you love this story. Every single word, every single event, has been playing around in my head nonstop for many months, and this is my first time putting it online for everyone to see. I haven't even written it down on paper. You can criticize and whatnot, but I will always be proud of my work.

**Now, without further ado….

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**Prologue: The Tale of Four Boys**

On September 1st, 1971, four remarkably unique boys entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and formed the most extraordinary bond of friendship that made them soul brothers.

These four boys came from different backgrounds and different parents. All were raised differently and all came to school with difficult problems. Together they share secrets, jokes and tears. They become the definition of brotherhood that we know so well. This is the story where their friendship brought them together.

One boy comes from an extremely Dark family. The baddest reputation for being evil and dangerous. Friendless and unloved as a child, but an older cousin and younger brother to bond with, he lived a rich, but lonely life in a dark and gloomy mansion. He was taught to detest certain people, to form snobbish habits and to follow the ways of an even bigger antagonist. He has learned at an early age to ignore these beliefs and waits impatiently for the moment he can go away and make a new image of himself. No longer will he be the son of evil parents; he will now become **Sirius Black**, the boy who desires friends. Handsome, clever, raucous and kind-hearted, he longs for people to see him for who he is and not for what his family has done. He wants recognition for his uniqueness; not for his last name.

One boy comes from a life of pain and suffering. An unfortunate event that plagued him at a young age, he is shunned by the world he lives in and has grown up with the only fact that he lives by: You are a monster. How can a well-mannered, polite, intelligent young man such as himself not think himself worthy of being a human being? How can he heed the whispers, how can he regard the looks of horror on people's faces, how can he even believe such nonsense? This beautiful boy, **Remus Lupin**, has been raised by loving parents, but lived an isolated childhood with no friends. He desires friendship, for people to know that he is not a monster but a person who just wishes to be loved.

One boy comes from a wealthy and spoiled childhood, from elderly parents that had him late in their lives. Clearly an adored, coddled child does not have any issue so major in his life. Alas, this is not exact. This boy has a hard time finding true meaning in his life. Smart, boisterous and kind, everything he desires, he receives. His friends, Muggle or Wizard, have ambitions that do not satisfy his crafty personality. His friends were fair, but they were not real friends. There was no closeness and he wished for a friend-like brother. Living as an only child was great, but a bit lonely at times. No, **James Potter** wishes for a daring life, full of adventure and big happenings. He desires a challenge that will make his pampered life enjoyable.

The last boy comes from a life of simplicity. A mother, a father and only himself for a playmate. Ridiculed by everyone his own age for childlike reasons, he has never had a friend thus creating low self-esteem and thirst for acceptance. He arrives at Hogwarts searching in similarly for the same thing James searches for:_ Friendship_. **Peter Pettigrew** wants people his own age to see him as a friendly, nice person. He wants to be respected.

Stories that centered around their friendship were passed down from decade to decade by the adults that had watched them grow up; teachers and alumni. Former classmates told their children about the wild things that had happened at school, so wild that even the most rambunctious of the children would question whether it was truth or falsehood. _Surely_ a rampaging hobgoblin did not come and randomly destroy every one of the Hogwarts Houses apart from Gryffindor house. _Surely_ a minotaur did not chase after the opposing team on the Quidditch field and every one else in sight after a fair defeat. Surely the Great Hall of Hogwarts did not transform into an ocean and travel throughout the school, merpeople and water demons and the Giant Squid swimming around. And of course no one ever ventured deep inside the Forbidden Forest, was captured by Death Eaters and was held prisoner for three weeks and came back unscathed and alive to tell the tale.

But they did happen.

These boys were legends, and their legacy has been repeated as the years passed, though no one has ever topped what they have accomplished. The people that were lucky enough to go to school with them boasted to many about the adventures they had had together. Many claimed false tales about a "close friendship" they had obtained with them. Most even dared to claim that they had been very close to them.

Only few knew any better.

Follow them and come along on their journey through their years at Hogwarts. Watch them form alliances and make their own titles. Watch them battle bullies and swoon teachers. Join them in their Marauder antics and laugh at their childlike innocence. Cry with them as they tell their heartbreaking stories as they slowly and unexpectedly grow their bonds. Watch them fall in love. Watch the Marauders grow from friends to **best** friends, from brothers to **soul** brothers.

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_True friendship isn't seen with the eyes, it is felt with the heart.  
__When there is trust, understanding, loyalty, and sharing.  
__True friendship is a rare feeling, but when it is found  
__It has profound impact on our well-being, strength, and character.  
__True friendship does not need elaborate gifts  
__Or spectacular events in order to be valuable or valued.  
__To ensure long-lasting quality and satisfaction,  
__True friendship only needs a few key ingredients:  
__Undying loyalty, unmatched understanding, unsurpassed trust,  
__Deep and soulful secrets, and endless sharing.  
__These ingredients, mixed with personality and a sense of humor,  
__Can make a friendship last a lifetime._

_This is where the tale begins.

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**A/N**- I hope I didn't bore you with this. I promise the upcoming chapters will be interesting...at least, I hope you think so. It would mean the world to me if you reviewed. Next chapter coming on Friday! Watch out for it!

~ Shashon*


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine except the plot. I am still madly in love with Sirius Black.**

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**Chapter 1 - The Black Family**

The summer in England of 1971 was utterly depressing.

The weather was disheartening; it was either very cold or very rainy. Rain plummeted the earth as if it was punching it out of petulance. Floods were frequent and disastrous. Houses, cars, trolleys were destroyed and quite a few people perished. Not to mention the air of miserable and gloomy attitudes that plagued the minds of the people. No one seemed to be in good moods nowadays. Everyone seemed to gain a nature of hopelessness. Where were the smiles and laughter that usually suppressed these people during the summer holidays? Where were the children at the playgrounds? Where were the fairs and carnivals that usually sprang up at the town square? Where had they gone?

Of course the Muggles didn't know of the magical, deadly creatures, that sucked the happiness out of them daily.

Ah, yes. Dementors. In this day and age, it was rather dangerous for people to walk around outside, Wizard or Muggle. There was a dangerous being about and it wouldn't be smart to dawdle anywhere. Even the Muggles seemed to recognize this. Unsolved murders and disappearances were announced almost daily among there kind, and everyone was panicking. No one was walking around after dark anymore. There was a deadly threat among Great Britain, that was surely certain. Muggles guessed this, but weren't sure. Of course, the wizarding world knew definitely.

It was a fortnight before the end of August and it was raining steadily and hard in London, darkness descending after a gray day. Sunlight hadn't been shone for days and half the city's residents haven't left there homes. All was quiet and wet. Nothing strange occurred until a handsome tawny owl broke through the clouds and flew through the sky, a thick letter clamped between the talons of its feet. It flew through London, on its mission to deliver a letter to a particular resident that lived on Grimmauld Square.

This street was usually littered with garbage, and it was effected the most in this dreadful weather. The gutters hadn't been cleaned out regularly, so great puddles of murky, brown water were spread around everywhere, garbage floated atop. Tall, crooked houses filled the square and everything was either broken down or makeshift. The Muggles were rude, bitter and not eligible to hang out with normal society. There were two houses in particular that seemed strange. One decrepit building was labeled number eleven and next to it was another building labeled number thirteen. What the Muggles didn't know was that there was indeed a number twelve, and this was where the impressive owl flew to with its mail. Invisible to the Muggles, but visible to the owl, it flew up to the topmost landing of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black to deliver its letter.

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The House of Black. One of the wealthiest families in the wizarding world, and possibly the most crazed family that worshiped their pure-blood status. Their mansion was humongous; five landings, several chambers to room numerous people, and they had countless expensive possessions. Descendants to the omnipotent Salazar Slytherin, extremely anti-Muggle, and very significant supporter to Voldemort, they were one the most intimidating families in Great Britain.

It is in the early hours of the morning, before the owl delivered the letter with its mysterious contents, where our story begins.  
No matter how cold and dreary the weather was, whether you just felt like to stay in bed and cuddle your pillows and sleep in all day, today was another day and it was nearly time for the inhabitants living in the House of Black to awaken. It was fairly quiet and dark that morning, seeing as there was no sun shining these days, leaving the curtains open to fish out a nonexistent ray of daylight was rather inane. Nevertheless, the withered, old elf continued to jerk curtain after curtain, drape after drape as he ventured throughout the house and throughout every landing. The elf was filthy, only wearing a towel that was wrapped akin to a toga around his skinny, gnarled body. Looks didn't matter for the elf, however, because he was very pleased to serve royalty and wouldn't give up his position for anything. What an honor it was to serve the Blacks like his ancestors had. They would've be so proud!

As the elf reached the fourth floor of the majestic mansion, he was just about to yank the one dark, black drape off the one window when a cold, drawling voice from below called to him.

"Kreacher! Kreacher, come at once!"

The elf called Kreacher left the drape to hang aimlessly at a crooked angle and instantly scampered down the stairs at a surprising speed that seemed impossible for a fragile-looking elf. Past the plaques of beheaded house-elves, (which, in the eyes of a sane wizard, would looks utterly gruesome), Kreacher whooshed down the heavily polished, handsome grand staircase and ventured towards the exquisite dining room where the patriarch and the matriarch of the family were drinking their daily morning tea, and where he was being summoned.

Seated at the head of the table in the large, extravagant room, posture rigid, as if frozen, with her back straight, shoulders back and neck long, was Walburga Black. She was a tall woman with midnight black hair and frosty, ice blue eyes; she certainly looked like a woman whom you would not want to cross. She had long, agile fingers that always seemed to look as if they longed to find it's way around someone's throat. It would be correct to say that you would never want this woman to point her wand at you because Walburga was inexplicably powerful, but in the most dangerous of ways. At the far end of the stretched table was Orion Black, seated the same manner as his wife. Orion also had midnight black hair, though it was cut roughly at his neck in a very prim fashion. His eyes were a frozen gray; he had those kind of eyes where you find you cannot look into them for long or else you might feel a rather electric feeling run through your veins. He was also a very powerful wizard.

The twosome were silently drinking a cup of tea, Orion reading the Daily Prophet and Walburga silently reading a letter. It seemed to have just gotten to her; a tall, grayish owl perched on her neighboring chair, waiting patiently for the reply. Whatever Walburga was reading, she didn't seem to enjoy what she was reading; on the contrary, she looked very angry. Her slightly hooked nose sniffed impatiently, her nostrils flaring as she read the rubbish that was stated in the letter. _How dare they! As if we have nothing more crucial to do! Filthy, no-good..._

"Mistress has called Kreacher?" Kreacher croaked, worship etched in his tone, as he bowed deeply next to Walburga's chair.

"Yes," she said stiffly. She laid the letter down on the table and faced the elf. "Have you prepared our meal?"

"Yes, yes, Madame, it is almost complete," Kreacher croaked.

"Kippers, toast, bacon and eggs?"

"Yes, all here."

"Fine. Have it on this table in about ten minutes. Afterwards, go and iron the traveling cloaks. Afterwards, wake the boys."

"Yes, Madame." Kreacher bowed once more and scuttled out of the dining room and down the far end of the large entry hall where the basement kitchen was located. Walburga turned back to the letter on the table with a look of utmost disgust.

Orion looked up silently from the Daily Prophet. He had known the owl had flown in, but it had advanced towards his wife, so he had paid no mind to it. They were very private, despite being a married couple, and they didn't truly share the same romantic sentiments of being married that normal couples would have if they were really in love. One could actually say that they weren't really love each other at all; cared, about each other, maybe. But there was no romance in the relationship, and there never had been; they were second cousins and had only married to keep up the Black name and traditions. It was known for the Blacks to marry within there family, incest very common. To the wizarding community it was revolting and unusual and this only alienated the family away from the community more so.

Nevertheless, Orion scrutinized the look on her face and wondered airily why she looked as if she wanted to throw something. And so he asked,"What has occurred?" No "dear", no "sweetie". A simple straightforward question.

Walburga hesitated a moment before she replied, "We must go up to Hogwarts together with Sirius in order to have sanction for him to enter the school this fall."

Orion stared back at her hardly, his customarily passive face shaping an angry features. "For what purpose?"

"How should I know how a Muggle-loving fool thinks?" Walburga snapped, sniffing bitterly. "It must be some new regime. Wasting people's valuable times and having to march into his office to authorize a piece of paper to ensure that your child will not bring threat nor danger to the welfare of his peers!" She picked up her silver ornate cup of tea and sipped.

Orion gave loud bark-like laugh. It was a cold and harsh sound that would make your spine tingle. "Is that what this is, then? He believes the incoming students, (first years, no less!), are going to turn up into the school and establish a conspiracy against the headmaster?"

Madame Black looked back at him mirthlessly. "How pleasant you find this amusing."

"It is. I cannot comprehend how this fool thinks. Having first years sign contracts to forbade them from breaking rules and causing harm to others?What is this old man playing at? What sort of dark magic are eleven-year-olds capable of doing?"

"Really?" Madame Black questioned dryly. "I was quite certain that we have taught our sons a great deal about the Dark Arts."

"I hope the knowledge has influenced them." He nodded once. "It is my hope that my hard-earned money has not gone to waste for their private tutors."

"Regulus has always been very attentive to his teachers," Walburga stated, a faint tone of pride in her voice. "On the otherhand, Sirius..."

"Prefers to fool around then get his work done," finished Orion grimly. There was a moment of silence before Walburga spoke again.

"I also highly doubt other incoming students are consulting with him on this."

"Oh?" Orion tipped his head to one side and sipped a bit of his tea. "Go on."

"Dumbledore supposedly thinks that Sirius is going to advocate for the Dark Lord and to persuade students to become Death Eaters. In order for this not to occur, he has sent me this letter for the both of us along with Sirius to meet with him in private. The three of us must sign his contract. It must be a particular method of the Unbreakable Vow. Perhaps a Wizard Oath of some sort."

"Ah. This makes sense." Orion laughed darkly once more before draining his cup. Walburga's nostrils flared dangerously, her eyes opened wide slightly.

"This is a terrible offence against the Black family, and you find this amusing?"

"Offence? I see no offence. I see an old fool trying to control my son from doing what is right and I am not going to stand for it. Fine. We will sign this deal. Nonetheless, if he thinks this will stop my son from advocating the Dark Lord, we will send Sirius straight to Durmstrang Institute for Magical Learning." He sounded completely serious.

"However, I wish for Sirius and Regulus to go to the school Salazar Slytherin helped to construct," said Madame Black gravely. "No matter how downridden the standards have become, Hogwarts is the school they will enroll."

Orion shrugged. "Be that as it may, Sirius will sign this contract, but you and I both know that he will not abide by this."

"In any case, Sirius is disrespectful to all his elders," Walburga sniffed unpleasantly. "He has been beyond bad-mannered lately. Why, just the other day on our way through Diagon Alley to Knockturn Alley, he had the audacity to talk to that Mudblood that works at Eeylope's Owl Emporium!"

"_What_?" Orion spat out angrily, his eyes blazing with anger. Walburga nodded once, her eyes also dancing with fire.

"Yes...and when I questioned him, he gave me some tall tale about "asking for the time". The nerve of that boy!"

"Must I punish him, Mistress?" Orion stood up from his chair and looked towards the grand staircase, as if he was already planning to throttle his eldest son.

Madame Black hesitated for a few moments before shaking her head slowly side to side. "I have left him with a warning that if I should see him speak or even _eye _a Mudblood, there would be dire consequences."

"This will not do, Walburga!" Orion retorted, looking back at his wife with a look of disbelief on his face. "Warnings? We have left him countless admonitions since he was three and he tried to hold an elderly Mudblood's hand at that filthy park down the road! He has defied us many times since then! What makes you think he will listen after a petty warning? I've told you many times..."

"No," Walburga said coldly. "Out of the question."

"The _only _way to rid our son from this...this...this _senselessness _is to punish him. Severe punishment."

"Orion, I have never heard of such treatment among the Blacks and I will not start now," Walburga barked.

"How will Sirius ever learn to heed Black purity as _law _if he do not enhance it enough to make influence?" Orion argued. "You are _coddling _him! I have told you from the start that we have been spoiling these boys! It is never too late to bring them about the right way, but the only way we can do this is if we..."

"No." Walburga stood up, shaking slightly. The magic seeping out of her body was black and foreboding. Her cold appearance made the very room turn cold as well.

They had had innumerable negotiations on this area under discussion many times, and it was always the same answer. Despite them both being from the same family, they had both been raised differently. Walburga had been raised in an elegant and strict household, where rules were law and if you didn't follow, you were to be punished. Orion had been raised similarly, only the punishments were much more strict. He had been a rambunctious child growing up, but there were many times that his own father had pointed his own wand at him, and this had left him with heavy influences. Walburga didn't believe in using harsh punishment unless it was truly necessary, and even then she would not let him touch their sons without her standing behind his shoulder to make he was not being to firm.

There was a time when Sirius was eight and Regulus was six. They had both left the house without permission and went down the road to the Muggle playground. There, they found a group of Muggle boys and played this idiotic game that involved a white ball with black spots and they were kicking it back and forth. When Orion had found them, he had grabbed both Sirius and Regulus by the neck and practically dragged them back to the house. His very intention was to beat them black and blue, but the only punishment they had received were spankings and no food for two days. What had made him even angrier was that, even though Regulus had shed tears during the punishment, Sirius had been defiant and no tear had escaped his eye. Orion had wanted to beat him solely for being deifant, but Walburga had put her foot down.

Insolence. He couldn't _stand _insolence.

Orion set his jaw. "I would've thought that as faithful you are to the traditions of our family, you would agree with me on this conception. Surely you do not want our sons to be a dsigrace to the Black family name?"

"What does beating our children black and blue have to do with living up to the Black family name?" Walburga yelled. "Is this how dignified we must be? If this is so, then our definitions of the word "dignity" differ greatly."

They stared at each other in a stony silence, hate and loathing beaming from there very beings. Walbruga's tone had left no room for rebuttal on Orion's sake. He may be the patriarch of the household, but Walburga was the monarch of the mansion and they were both aware of it. Orion sat down, slightly shaking from anger, his face slightly pink. Being silenced by a woman, your _wife_, could really break a man's morale. There were many times when Orion thought horridly of his wife, and when they were having conversations on how to discipline their children, it was even worse. Orion did not dawdle, however. Indeed, he would listen to his wife. For now. But his time would come. _Oh_, how his time would come.

The married couple were still in a stony silence, and to break it, Orion said the only thing that might appease his deranged wife.

"_Toujours pur_," he muttered.

"_Toujours pur_." Walburga slowly smiled thinly.

At that moment, Kreacher emerged from the entry hall and into the dining room, his thin, knobbly arms laden with plates, eating utensils and food. He was unaware of the death glares Orion was sending his favorite Master.

"Breakfast, Master," Kreacher breathed as he laid the platters on the corner of the table. He snapped his fingers and the supplies flew into there correct places on their own accord. The chandelier above their heads shown bright, so bright that the expensive china on their dresser shown like crystals, which they were. The Black Family crest was protuberant most of all.

"Thank you, Kreacher," said Walburga tightly. Kreacher bowed deeply at his master's kind words. "Shall Kreacher now go and awaken..."

Before the elf could finish his what he was saying, without warning, a deafening boom rang throughout the mansion; the chandelier swung, the plates and utensils trembled and the china rattled.

A normal wizarding family would have been alarmed by this sudden noise, possibly think that danger was afoot. However, the Blacks have lived through noise and disruption through the course of about eleven years and knew exactly had made the noise. It was far to late to even become startled at the noise, but it didn't stop them from being aggravated.

There was a thump, a smash that sounded like a broken vase and a boisterous voice that bellowed, "GOOD MORNING WORLD AND ALL WHO INHABIT IT!"

Orion and Walburga Black simultaneously narrowed their eyes and each held the dark look in their eyes.

"No need, Kreacher," Orion stated, a sneer and disgust so noticeably etched in his voice. "If Sirius is awake, so is Regulus."

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**TO BE CONTINUED...**

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**A/N** - Thank you for the reviews! How do you guys like the first chapter? **IT'S BEAUTIFUL**! Why? **MY HUSBAND'S FIRST LINE IS IN IT**! I really hope I captured my lover's personality well! Ha-ha...Why don't you review and tell me how you think it's going? Thoughts, suggestions, words of praise, flames, ANYTHING! (Well...easy on the flames...) No, really, constructive criticism is forever welcome.

~ Shashon*


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